


Telecosmic Alchemy

by gloss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Force Sex, M/M, Rimming, Sex Pollen, porn with feels in, schmoopy cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 20:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6093391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/pseuds/gloss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe takes Finn to visit his home planet. His *sexy* home planet.</p><p>This is sex pollen fic. It's inherently dubcon, even if I did end up failing to resist the otp schmoop. /o\</p>
            </blockquote>





	Telecosmic Alchemy

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Sebadoh](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Ns5wzSmVWM#). 
> 
> Very vague references to tie-in stuff.

"Man, I keep telling you," Poe says as he joins Finn on the ground. BB-8 descends from the ship's undercarriage, landing with a soft plop in the leaves. "There aren't any Ewoks here."

Finn frowns, looking up into the canopy. "I feel like there should be."

Poe claps him on the shoulder and hands him his knapsack. "Maybe so, but there aren't."

Finn is slow to follow Poe down the trail. "You've been away for a while. Maybe..."

Poe glances over his shoulder. "Maybe Ewoks learned colonization and spaceflight and hopped on over?"

Finn spreads his hands wide. "It's possible!"

"Anything's possible."

"That's what I'm saying."

Poe backtracks to join Finn, who's looking up into the trees again. "Why do you care so much about Ewoks?"

There are thousands of leaves moving in the wind, jumping against the light, and they're all reflected on the surfaces of Finn's upturned eyes. Poe could get dizzy thinking about the heights and depths trapped there, but he's not a good pilot for nothing. Don't look down, always look ahead.

"Dissected one once," Finn says. "They're pretty neat." Setting off quickly, he grabs his knapsack and swings it onto his shoulder. BB-8 rolls after him, sending up little sprays of dirt and leaves.

It's Poe's turn to hang back. These facts just drop out of Finn, horrible things, the worst kind of cruelties, both banal and operatic. Poe never quite knows what to do with them. He doesn't know what Finn thinks about them; sharing them seems to be just another part of his stunning, frequently unsettling openness.

Finn looks at the world with open eyes and stout heart and expects the best in return. In spite of everything they've done to him, he doesn't back down.

"Hey!" Finn calls from much farther up the trail. "I have no idea where I'm going, you know!"

BB-8's signal is loud enough to disturb birds from the trees. «His stride is much longer than yours. He moves very quickly. Please come.»

His droid just called him short.

"Hold up!" Poe yells. 

*

They hike for half the diurnal cycle, finally making it to the temple around what would be dinner-time on D'Qar. BB-8 rattles off a long series of facts (and, to be honest, local stories that can't ever be confirmed) about the history of the site from the time of the Massassi through Sith occupation, all the way to its use as a Rebel base and beyond.

Poe translates about a third of it for Finn, which pisses BB off enough that it shuts down in protest, but he's sleepy in the strong sun with a full belly. He lies back, knapsack tucked against a fallen log and closes his eyes.

After a bit, Finn joins him. Poe opens his eyes just enough to see him assume the exact same position, down to one arm folded behind his head. He knocks his boot against Finn's, feels him knock back. Poe smiles drowsily.

Poe's lived in barracks for more than a third of his life. He's used to close quarters. And, hell, Finn's lived in much closer quarters for his whole young life. Still, his habitual closeness to Poe is different. In barracks, you keep out of each other's way, even if that's just a couple centimeters' grace. He can't imagine stormtroopers moving in such familiarity with each other. No, this is Finn, all Finn.

"You good?" Poe murmurs.

"Yeah," Finn says. "I am."

"You really are." He wiggles a little in the humus until his arm brushes Finn's, then leaves it there.

He hears Finn sigh. Maybe that's the breeze.

*

He wakes when the light has changed; they're in the shade of the temple now, and a wind has kicked up. It's chillier now and blowing leaves tickle his face. He's alone.

Getting to his feet, his balance sways a little, which is weird. He rubs his eyes, sneezes, and looks around their makeshift camp. BB-8 is still shut down. 

Around the back of the temple, the Massassi dammed a small spring into a pool a little deeper than a man's height. Poe finds Finn there.

A flash of anger, disappointment, slices through him, surprising him with its force. He'd been planning on showing this spot to Finn. He'd wanted to be there when Finn saw it, wanted to see the wonder and delight play over his face.

Poe sneezes again, then steadies himself, hand on the rough bark of the nearest tree, catching his balance and breathing out the disproportionate anger. 

Finn's sitting on the edge of the pool, shirt off, water sparkling in his hair and down his back. He's still got a little room to grow. His shoulders are broad, his limbs lanky.

He's _beautiful_.

Poe's eyes water a little and his skin is two sizes too small. He's hot again, almost stiflingly so, so he strips down to his undershirt. He makes sure to make enough noise as he approaches so Finn doesn't startle. 

Finn leans back on one arm and twists at the waist, smiling. "Water's great," he says. "Make yourself comfortable."

He's naked. Sitting there with his legs dangling in the water, kicking up waves every so often, buck naked.

"Looks like you already did," Poe says, dropping down to a crouch beside him. He's not angry again, he's pretty sure. He's _warm_ , however, and distracted. Very distracted. 

For a second, he thinks he can hear the buzz of sunlight and squish of chlorophyll.

"You okay?" Finn asks, leaning in, squinting at Poe's face. "Your pupils are _huge_."

"I'm great." A small part of his brain notes that this is the first lie he's ever told Finn. That's unacceptable. "No, I'm not. Feel weird. Good, really good, but weird."

"Got something on your cheek --" Finn reaches up, brushing fingertips over Poe's cheek, just below his eye. His finger comes away blue with pollen.

He wants to kiss Finn's palm, just press his open mouth there, bite a little, keep him right here.

Poe blinks rapidly, swaying until he falls back on his ass. Finn's right there, kneeling over him. 

His shoulders tilt as wide as the horizon. His torso is just perfect smooth skin, taut over crafted muscles. The muscles in his thigh, right past Poe's hand, are tightly bunched. Finn touches Poe's face again, more firmly, cupping his cheek. Poe pulls him over, just hooks his hands around Finn's neck and _yanks_ until Finn's splayed over him and their foreheads knock hollowly and then their chins. 

Which hurts, but that sort of pain you get right before coming, or at the height of a good fistfight, where the hurt makes everything feel that much better.

"Finn, I want --"

"Yeah," Finn says, struggling up a little, so Poe tightens his hold. "Easy, man, I'm just getting a better angle."

Finn's eyes are brown, so dark and liquid that Poe realizes the only thing they've ever made him think of is this pool. This pool, sunk with ancient mysticism, on his home planet, in the spring breeze.

Like he'd been waiting for Finn this whole time: he thinks that, then realizes it makes no sense, then thinks it again.

"You," Poe says. He thinks that's it, then remembers more. "I really want."

"Yeah, buddy, I can tell," Finn sounds amused now, cupping his other cheek, kissing him.

It's gentle. Very soft, almost tentative but definitely enthusiastic. _He's never done this,_ Poe thinks. He writhes under Finn, his hands going everywhere, desperate to feel the texture of his skin over shoulder blades, the narrow of his waist, how the muscles in his side shift and slide against each other.

In the throbbing, heated mess that has become his mind, Poe wants very much to crawl inside Finn. Learn him from the inside. Fuck him down to the nerve endings and roll around the sparks they give off.

He kisses up into Finn, uses his teeth and tongue. Finn stills and there's a sudden, sharp scent coming off him, like broken twigs, sap, saline. 

Poe slides his mouth, dragging teeth, over Finn's cheek and down the side of his throat. The vein there jumps against his tongue.

"Poe --"

"You've never done this," Poe says, not making it a question. He pulls himself away and scrubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. "I like that. I _really_ like that."

"Thank you," Finn says. He isn't being sarcastic. The poor, good kid.

"This shouldn't be your first, not like this. Not me." He hates himself for saying it; the words are sour and come slow.

"See, that's where you're wrong." Finn pulls Poe's hands off his face. "Definitely you."

Poe laughs and his chest hurts and he's pretty sure he's about to come in his pants like he's thirteen again.

"Who else?" Finn asks, and he sounds as kind and reasonable as ever. Except when Poe looks at him, really looks over, Finn doesn't look like he's being nice. He looks intense, actually, brows knitted together, mouth open. Kissable. He touches Poe's face again, wiping something off Poe's chin, sticky in the spit, then tastes his fingers. 

Finn looks perfect with something in his mouth. Poe grunts and fully intends to flop back, roll away, go hide in the woods and jerk off until he gets this out of his system. He's not a bad guy. That's a good plan, a strong plan.

He grabs Finn's wrist and shoves his mouth down Finn's fingers, all the way, too hard to taste, not nearly as hard and tight as he needs to make it. Above him, Finn kind of whimpers and grunts. He touches Poe's hair, pets it roughly, and says, "Man, I'd like --"

"Yeah," Poe says, the fingers making a wet pop as he rips his mouth off them. "I need this."

He kisses Finn again, on top this time, working his mouth wider and wider open, and sweeps his palm down the length of Finn's torso, feeling him twist to the touch, shivering and arching.

Finn's hard. He's really hard, cock straining upward, brushing against Poe's searching hand. When Poe closes his grip around the shaft, Finn arches up so fast that he nearly dislodges Poe. He shouts into the kiss and Poe swallows it down.

"I want so much," Poe mutters, shoving Finn back, scrambling between his legs. "You can't --. I can't stop."

"Good," Finn says, and he's cupping Poe's face with both hands, gazing down at him like he's giving his blessing. "Don't."

He's such a good man. Poe's going to wreck everything. It's going to feel amazing.

"Touch yourself," Poe tells him and he licks down the underside of Finn's shaft, presses the flat of his tongue against the balls, teases the tiny whorled curls there. Tastes _Finn_ , swallows the flavor all the way down, keeps it, takes it for himself. He looks up sharply. "Do it."

Finn's hand flexes on empty air. "I --"

"Show me what you like." It's a line he's used hundreds of times, when he wasn't an asshole, when he was just plain horny, when he wanted to make it good for his partner(s). Saying it now isn't right, except. Except he wants to know. He wants to know _everything_ Finn likes. 

The sick, sterile cold of Kylo Ren's mind probe, the blunt search that broke capillaries as it dug out the truth. He smells and tastes it again, and Poe throws himself backward. Or it throws him.

He hasn't moved. He just got thrown back, out of his body, and then slipped back, and here he is, lapping at Finn's fingers, nipping at his thumb every time his fist comes down the shaft. Everything is sticky and warm, with his spit, Finn's spit, pre-come, and it's too much.

"Don't stop," he says, almost barking it. He sounds like his first deck chief. He pushes Finn's legs until his knees come up and the soles of his feet slide back and his ass is right there, spreading. He buries his face there, leading with his tongue, smearing spit until he finds the center, where the skin's a little puffy, gathered tight. He works at the tension, lapping, then corkscrewing his tongue, working and working as Finn moans, half a galaxy above him, his hips coming up and shuddering. Finn freezes, ass in the air, pulled off Poe's face. His toes are curled against the stone and come is splattering his belly. 

Poe's moving again, rising on his knees, leaning over, taking the last couple spurts across his face.

Before Finn unclenches, lowers himself back to the ground, Poe's catching him around the waist, holding him up. With his other hand, he pushes two fingers up inside Finn. 

Finn is hot, soft, steel-strong around Poe's fingers. He's looking wildly around, saying Poe's name, and Poe kisses him again, tells him to lap his own come off Poe's face, rubs it into both their skin.

"I'm going to fuck you," Poe says and Finn nods rapidly, anxiously, peppering kisses down Poe's throat. "I'm going to fuck you _so hard_."

"Good, good," Finn babbles and he's uncoiling, heavy and awkward, in Poe's arms, twisting for more touch, wrapping one leg around Poe's waist. He cants up his hips, throws his head back, then looks up again. "Like this?"

"Any way is good." Poe goes up on his knees, opening his trousers, taking out his dick and rubbing the pre-come up and down. "It's going to --"

Finn's up on one elbow, reaching for Poe, and his eyes are beseeching, his mouth twisting in a moan. "Do it."

He turns his face away, teeth in his lower lip, when Poe drags his fingers out. Poe's cockhead mashes against Finn's hole, bends painfully, and he grunts. Pushes one of Finn's legs up against his chest, and tries again.

This should be enough. He's thrusting, working the head inside Finn's tight ring, thoughts flying by in shreds and tatters. When the head finally drags inside, he doesn't want to stop; Finn's muscles grip him to a standstill.

Finn's half-hard again, his cock thickening against his thigh.

Poe feels one thud of his heartbeat and waits for the next. Birds croon overhead; a branch breaks in the woods. A small burrowing reptile digs into the mor. Clouds scud past them, around them, cool and refreshing.

"You feel that?" Poe whispers.

The water in the pool is still and clear beyond them.

Finn's craning up toward him again. He looks exultant, face shining with sweat, mouth curving into a smile, eyes wide. He touches Poe's face, traces his lower lip with his thumb. He gulps when Poe sucks on it. "Yeah."

Something tilts, tumbles forward, and Poe's all the way in, thrusting, working back out, careening forward. The close, hot, angry desperation is gone, vanished into clouds and birdsong, and all that's left is something bigger and clearer and brighter, the crush of Finn around him, drawing him forward, deeper, swallowing him up. Poe fucks harder, the destination always just a little farther away, and Finn's whole body ripples, meeting him, lifting, falling away.

When Poe switches his hips back and forth, staying buried deep, scouring himself inside, Finn's moans go deeper, start breaking like bird shells on stone. His eyes are wide, his pulse frantic.

 _Now_ he's beautiful. More so, every moment. His beauty keeps doubling, doubling, magnifying until Poe is caught for good, sucked into the center and burning from the inside out, coronal flares and supernovas.

He collapses, hands planted on Finn's shoulders, hips doing something terribly graceless and needy, still shooting, but Finn's kissing him like he's a hero.

*

«Very high levels of botanical microgametophytes, plants not originally native to this ecosystem!» BB-8 all but screeches as it lurches toward them. «Known psychotropic properties for carbon-based life include euphoria, disorientation, physical engorgement...»

Poe laughs at "engorgement". That's not the half of it. 

Having washed off in the pool, Finn and Poe are walking back to camp when the droid crashes into them. It backs up, top section tilting inquisitively. «Further psychotropics detected in water. You have been exposed, many times over.»

"It's all right," Poe tells it. "We're fine."

"What's it saying?"

"We got, uh. Infected?" He checks with BB, then corrects himself. "Affected. By alien pollen. Possibly also ancient mystical artifacts in the water."

Finn looks at BB-8, then back at Poe. He's unflappable; it's so wonderful. "Both of us? Because I know I felt weird, but --"

Poe narrows his eyes. He's not sure if he should be offended or feel flattered. "You thought that was me being _normal_ back there?"

"I don't know, maybe?" Finn shrugs and grins. "This is all new to me, man."

BB-8 trills. 

"What was that?" Finn asks.

"Not words," Poe replies. "I think it's just pleased, the little perv."

*

"Your planet is _cool_ ," Finn says when they're settling in for the night. Poe's curled on his side, one arm heavy across Finn's chest; Finn's fiddling with his hair.

Poe yawns hugely. "I like it, yeah."

"Sexy, sexy planet," Finn says musingly. "Makes a lot of sense for you."

"Thanks." Poe can't open his eyes. He aches all over, but he's also flooded with warmth, and Finn makes a happy noise when Poe scoots even closer, hooking his leg over Finn's.


End file.
